Letters to mom
by magicmady
Summary: (this is a series of letters from a thirteen year old daughter to her mom, she sent none of these.)
1. Chapter 1

Dear Mom,

Okay, look. I'm not really good with this type of thing, alright? I mean, the only reason i have the guts to write this is the fact that you'll never read it, cause you never visit . This may surprise you, but i really do love you, even though i don't say it a lot. I just wanted to say i'm sorry.  
I'm sorry that i constantly act lazy, even though i know i'm doing it, i just choose not to care.  
I'm sorry that i smile, pull a blank face, roll my eyes, or am rude in general every time you scold me for something that i know i did wrong.  
I'm sorry that i've had you stressed for, what? Two - three years? Yeah, well, I'm sorry.  
I'm sorry i never listen to your advice or my own, and don't show enough determination to do things thoroughly.  
I'm sorry that i chew you out in public, saying awful things about you that aren't true.  
I'm so, so, so sorry for lying to you, i hate it, you hate it, but i still do it nonetheless.  
All in all, i'm sorry for being such a pain. Don't you start, i KNOW i am.  
But every time i am being that pain, you always tell me i can do it, that i'm clever enough, and i believe you. There are only a few people who can successfully pull me out of a funk, and you are definitely one of them.  
I love you, mom.  
I always will.  
I always have.  
Forever,  
Your Daughter.


	2. I'm Scared

Dear mom,

i love you, i really, really do, but i feel so mad at you sometimes.  
Despite my constant happy-go-lucky attitude, i really am worried.  
Constantly worried.  
i hate myself sometimes, truly.  
i hate that i slack off, and i KNOW that it's wrong, and i KEEP ON DOING IT.  
i really don't know why, i guess it's because i'm stupid or something.  
And my anime, it takes my mind off the worry.  
instead of going crazy on myself, i go crazy for my shows.  
And i read, that helps.  
A LOT.  
i get lost in the story and forget who i am, a silly immature girl, hidden away somewhere, with a black Kindle clasped tightly in my hands.  
Honestly, i disgust myself.  
i char off schooling for playing, homework for writing, and planning for chatting.  
And when you tell me that i'm clever, and i can pull through, i believe you.  
But that isn't what bothers me, another small dagger of guilt and hatred is plunged into my gut when you tell me that i'm not trying hard enough, and i believe you.  
But that doesn't bother me either.  
What bothers me is that you dig the dagger deeper, telling me i should have got a 100 on my science test instead of an 85.  
It's hard.  
Keeping my mind off bad things and juggling school, guilt, worry, and FEAR at the same time.  
There was a time, when i locked myself in my room, when i would get a thin length of plastic, like a hangar, and i would slap myself with it.  
until big angry red marks appeared.  
And it scared me.  
Why?  
Because i ENJOYED it.  
i ENJOYED my own pain.  
a masochist.  
It scared me so much.  
I didn't want to be like that.  
eventually, plastic became rubber, rubber became leather, and i had begun to use metal things, like butterknives.  
Then i stopped.  
And read, and read, and read.  
i really think i'm going crazy.  
i started TALKING to people who weren't there.  
and i KNEW they weren't.  
but, i did it anyway.  
It scared me.  
I had always pretended like that, sorta.  
i remember my seven year old self, in my room, chatting.  
to NO ONE AT ALL.  
But now i made sketches of the people.  
i gave them names.  
i talked to people from my tv programs.  
but i stopped hurting myself.  
so i shoved through it.  
It now got so serious, i started MAKING OUT with the characters.  
it's become habit to lock my door, in case i go into one of my 'sessions'  
Either chatting, laughing, joking, planning, or making out.  
i pretend.  
And it scares me.  
But i do it anyway.  
Cause then i don't hurt myself.  
i don't give in to my 'desires'  
i channel them somewhere else.  
i am so scared, mom.  
And i can't tell you any of this.  
Because i'm scared.  
I'm sorry,  
Your Daughter.


End file.
